Harry Potter and the Scarlet Beetle lncident

By Penmom

Author's Notes: (1) A couple of things - this short fic - it should run just a few chapters and it takes places in the winter of Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts. So please don't envision this as taking place with young kids - ick - really. This will be an R fic but nothing awful or tasteless - still STAY AWAY IF YOU AREN"T OLD ENOUGH, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! (2) Just so you know, I picture this as sort of a Buffy version of Harry, if that helps put things in perspective. (3) As always I like feedback just like everybody else.

Chapter 2

The Common Room

Harry sighed as he stretched the cramps out of his arms and legs. He didn't think he'd moved a muscle in the past two hours. He shook his head to clear out the cobwebs and caught sight of Hermione. Curled up with Crookshanks in her favorite chair, nose in a book - she looked about as comfortable as he was UNCOMFORTABLE. He had given up trying to figure her out long ago, how could a person actually find pleasure in a musty old book. Sure, books were useful, he'd give her that but beyond that there were at least a hundred other things he would rather be doing this night.

The Gryffindor common room was empty tonight except for him and Hermione. The great majority of Hogwarts had already gone home for the winter holidays leaving the place eerily quiet and forlorn. Even Ron, who usually stayed through Christmas, had packed up just this morning to accompany a small group of Hogwarts students on a goodwill visit to Beauxbatons. Harry guessed - and rightfully so - that Ron wouldn't have been nearly as quick to volunteer for the journey if not for the strong possibility of seeing Fleur Delacour. Who could blame him, Fleur was beautiful. Considering her Veela heritage, any man would be hard pressed to turn down such a chance. If it weren't for this damned Auror exam on Monday, he might have stepped up himself.

Still, he really couldn't imagine himself attempting to court Fleur, not with ol' You Know Who out on the prowl. And while he appreciated Fleur's beauty, he often found himself doubting the attention he received from the fairer sex. It seemed that girls were quite interest in the infamous Boy who Lived but cared little for knowing the man he was becoming. For now, he was going to finish this fight and if he lived - he corrected himself - he would live, he would win, then he would put forth some energy in the girl department. Until then, well, there were always cold showers ...

Before he could finish his thought, Hermione let out an exclamation, "Well, that's it! I am tried of reading this supposed book about the Dark Arts - I mean really, a chapter about malevolent house elves!"

Hermione's continuing outrage over the greater magical community's stance toward house elves always proved to be a distraction, albeit an irritating one. Hoping to avoid another diatribe on Spew, known only by Hermione as the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, Harry's mind raced to find another topic. His eyes settling on the parcel stamped with a logo of a W and a B with the words, Weasley Brothers - Your One Stop Emporium for the Hilarious and the Unusal, written underneath. "Hermione, what you say we take a break? See what Fred and George have cooked up this time, what do you say? It's Saturday for heaven's sake."

Hermione looked at Harry, looking so much like the boy she met on the train that first day. Goodness knows, he could use some fun. When she thought of all he's been through --- well, sometimes she found it hard to reconcile the Harry who crammed his studies in at the eleventh hour with the Harry who had by now saved the Wizarding (and Mortal) worlds both several times over. Her face alighting with a smile she nods.

"I'm game, Potter. Bring it on." She teased.

TBC